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mehoymalloy · 5 months

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Hello 👀 can I please hear the potential Raven Queen and Imogen stuff in the Let Me sequel?

Warning: This got long lol.

Ok so... in Let Me, while everything revolves around Imogen and Otohan's interactions, there is still a heavy focus on plot, since it's following along with the canon campaign, with me making changes when necessary/interesting. (As opposed to the Won't You series, which purely serves to let me put those two in a box and shake 'em up, focusing more on characterization than plot).

So with that said, the Let Me Sequel will have a heavier focus on Bells Hells as a whole, even if viewed through Imogen's perspective. A big part of that will of course be Laudna, because she undeniably means so much to Imogen, and I don't like discounting or diminishing that. One thing Imogen will be facing is how she can help Laudna, with the gods as a whole being a potential if unnerving option.

Right now, the sequel outline is really just a list of chronological events and ways I can tweak them to serve the story, and there are lots of potential ways to do so!

Like imagine Otohan being privy to these "so about the gods" conversations. I imagine she would be dismissive/uninterested intially because it's not useful info to the Vanguard. But then the Raven Queen (or Duskmaven, and she's often called in Marquet) comes up, and suddenly Otohan is all ears, abruptly curious about Imogen's opinion of the gods and borderline cagey as to why ('Continue with your debates as long as you wish, but be wary of who you consort with.' <- that's Otohan lol.) And if that ain't a big red button that says 'Do Not Push' lol.

Maybe when Team Wildemount are in Uthordurn, Imogen slips away to the Matron of Ravens' temple and starts asking questions (as vague and awkward as she may be, going based on her recent Dawnfather temple visit lol). I imagine there'd be quite the warm up period for her; like's she's not just gonna become a cleric or paladin of the Duskmaven immediately. More so just asking questions and showing interest when the topic happens to come up, rather than actively seeking out information.

Meanwhile, you have Otohan in the back of her mind, clearly not liking this for some reason, even if she never says so directly. So then, maybe when Imogen exhausts surrounding sources of info, she starts asking Otohan. ('Didn't you follow the Duskmaven once? Heard you lost your faith during the war or something, though I'm guessing it had nothing to do with the 'horrors of war,' in your case.') And as you can likely imagine, Otohan doesn't appreciate this one bit. It becomes just one way Imogen can get under Otohan's skin, each question or mention crafted to hurt as much as weasel information out of her.

Imagine Otohan tuning in at very inopportune times (as Imogen is drinking from a clear fountain in an unnaturally dark chapel of sorts, as she's hesitantly stepping into a pool of blood, as the lid of one of those meditation coffins is being slowly pushed over her). Let Me Otohan will likely not have quite as sympathetic religious trauma as Moon Moms Otohan is being set up to have, but that's not to say she won't have any at all. And Imogen might quickly pick up that the easiest way to wring raw, honest answers out of Otohan is by exposing herself (and by proxy Otohan) to those types of rituals and situations.

Imogen may approach the Duskmaven very much as a 'here's the deal' sort of situation, bargaining for Laudna's life, but at the same time she has someone who is intimately aware of the intricacies of real faith and devotion. And I think that constant dichotomy between the two of them could be really cool (like imagine Imogen awkwardly attempting to perform some sort of prayer or ritual or whatnot, and Otohan abruptly snaps, 'Kneel, and bow your head,' because she's doing it wrong and can we please get on with this lol).

And as a final, fun note, most of Imogen's exposure to the Matron of Ravens has been through the Northern Hemisphere lens, where she is known as "the goddess of death, fate, and winter and watches over the transition between life and death" and is associated with ravens. But in Marquet, she is primarily referred to as the Duskmaven and is known as "the goddess of twilight, inevitability, and the passage of time in addition to her association with the transition into the afterlife" (Mirahaze). Certain sects also "depict her as a keen-eyed vulture with plumage varying from the shades of a sunset to the black of midnight" (Wiki).

On a more serious note, this will absolutely play into how both Otohan and Imogen view their own connection (with Otohan subconsciously placing a lot of value on the idea of fate and inevitability, no matter how much she claims the importance of seizing your own destiny, because of her history with the faith.)

On a less serious note, I think it'd be funny as fuck if the Duskmaven started sending a vulture to Imogen as a sign rather than the stereotypical raven, thinking, 'oh she's from Marquet so this is culturally relevant.' Meanwhile, Imogen, who knows jackshit about the cultural intricacies regarding worship of the Duskmaven in Marquet, is like 'did something fucking die in the hole? Why is this buzzard following us??' and poor FCG is having flashbacks.

Whew, this got way longer than expected. And I really shoudn't be suprised at myself; I hoped my ramblings were at least interesting!

#imogen temult #critical role #cr3 #otohan thull #matron of ravens #raven queen #duskmaven #malloy sometimes speaks

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 6 months

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Halloween

Tomorrow, the Night Market will be doing something a little different. It's Halloween in the Northern Hemisphere on the planet where our errand girl resides. As such, Nxctuary will be opening the inbox until the sun sets, and anyone leaving a note in the Ask box with the words, "Trick or Treat," will receive a token of the Wishmonger's appreciation.

Please advise that all subjects pertaining to the Opress brothers, Nightbrother culture, Dathomir, Star Wars horror, terato/exo, and erotic horror are on the menu for the day, and what you receive is at the Wishmonger's discretion.

Blessings of the Twins upon you,

Wishmonger

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kinderedgeisc00t · 1 year

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Okay, how do I do this,

Let's see uh

Okay I have nothing to copy and paste really, so I'm just going to write from scratch. Bear with me.

Hiiiii I'm Edmund Endless. I'm 18, as of last February. Seems important to put out into the world.

I'm a little weirdo. Or, well a tall one according to some people (is 5'8" tall?), But either way, I fully admit that I am in fact rejecting the term normal when it comes to my identity. I'm in fact very eccentric in between the fact that I consider things like slacks to be casual pants and almost always wear some kind of Hawaiian shirt out in public because I like the design of a short sleeve button up with desgny stuff, that definitely counts.

As far as hobbies go, I've had a bit of time to accumulate some, such as being an artist on paper and digitally, a rudimentary writer in the works, and then I look cooking and playing Minecraft (I am most certainly not a gamer but that will hopefully be something I can work on)

I also like to dress super femme [though, also, I see clothing as a thing all should be able to enjoy free of gendered norms, sooo-]. So far not anything huge since I'm working on getting a job as we speak, but once I have money flowing in, I plan to do more. I think skirts, fishnets, and makeup are all amazing things, and that's not even the start of it.

Edit: I've been considering Gothic Victorian attire... I think it's also called Gothic Lolita? Outfits I've found look cute and i wish I had them now-

Anyway, as mentioned in my blurb at the top, I am neurodivergent. As far as I know I Do have an official diagnosis but I don't know where they are because I was not the one who got them- but anyway I have Autism and ADHD. I like to think of them as additional overlays over my brain (I imagine ADHD as like the weird additional RAM space over with my left hemisphere for example) that have a few drawbacks but generally make me who I am. Everyone is a unique individual and I think that's one of the best things ;]

Formerly I was a proud owner of a surprisingly old cockatiel whom I love and cherish- he got to be 31, nearly 32, this year. And throughout the last summer, I also care for two cats- neither of which have any problem with my bird. Usually it's more a concern of if he'll bite them lol

Since my birds passing I've adopted two rescues who needed a new person and while they're not fully tamed yet, we all enjoy each other and I hope to further the bond with time and effort.

Anyway it's a fair warning that because of that I may or may not understand certain social cues, sarcasm, certain jokes, etc. I definitely understand text tones a little better even before people started employing the /srs or whatever stuff, but it's better to put that out there. I can also be a little blunt, but between autism and experiences, I do try to not be harsh if I can.

Anyway I'm running out of long things to list so I'm just going to put some additional facts down here

- I currently have at least one experience working on an alpaca farm, and as a result I have a couple vague understandings of the stuff that goes on there and why they're quite profitable.

- I really really want to dye a bit of my hair hot pink. I think it would be awesome and very outside the box. [Edit: I DID IT! I'M GONNA DO IT AGAIN eventually]

- I like scary stuff and I like silly stuff, and I especially like it when both are involved. Mainly because I see a lot of the same humor nowadays and horror doesn't always phase me (I was one of those kids who got into FNAF when I was younger so a lot of the feeling of being scared over those kind of things desensitized me a little.)

- I at one point wanted to be a YouTuber as a career, but most likely that will not happen due to the ridiculousness of the platform not likely going to mesh very well with my vocabulary at least half the time consisting of Fuck here and there- which is to say I will probably still eventually get back into that because I wanted to post things on there too.

- I've been getting into baking and I really want to try to make creamy jalapeno popper stuffed chocolate donuts from scratch. I also want to make a pizza from scratch :]

- I love Legos and I like making transformers out of them when I can figure out how to do it.

- I like music that is either from the 50s jazz era, older rock, shitposty songs, and then will wood. I/me/myself babyy :D

- I have read the entire Twilight series and shamelessly admit that I used to think it was the coolest thing when I was younger. Not So much Anymore.

- I'm a big fan of books by Rick riordan, James Patterson, and other obscure artists that right strange cool stories- such as The hitchhiker's guide which I also read the entire trilogy of four books.

- for some reason my default thought to looking cooler involves spikes and leather and you know I can't entirely say why. But I think it makes anyone look instantly cooler to be dressed in at least a cool leather jacket and heeled matching boots.

- I am in fact the person behind the two projects R.O.O.T and Enduralt. The former (Root) which I work on more because that's a long-term project and an original project. The other one (Enduralt) was just something me and an old friend kind of jumped back into for fun and I figured I'd keep the ball rolling as long as I can since I felt like it deserved to have its ideas shown in some capacity.

- I have a C shaped spine last I checked. It doesn't affect a whole lot as long as I'm careful, but I think it's an interesting fact to mention.

- through very roundabout means I am related to Johnny Cash, but not by blood.

- at some point I really want to have the space to build the model of an old car but retrofitted for modern road safety stuff since nowadays you need to have at least a partially electric car to drive on the road. I'd like to have mine look nice and cool.

- this probably should have gone upwards by the cake idea but I really like mixing foods together and at some point I intend to create my ultimate burger I've always dreamed of.

- also my favorite color is magenta and I am frustrated that it is hard to find that color in the kind of clothes I like to get because if I could I would have a lot of nice sweaters and skirts and stuff in magenta and it would be amazing-

Anyway, that's all I can think of right now, so unless I something start reblogging and adding more to the list, that's everything relevant. Feel free to ask more about that stuff and I'll tell stories like the weird uncles/dad friend that I am to people.

How the hell do I pin this-

#intro post #if you see these #hi :]

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whatthecrowtold · 1 year

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#unhallowedarts "Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs / Upon the slimy sea" Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner"

Coleridge's memorable Night Mare Life-in-Death by Sir Noel Paton

"Her lips were red, her looks were free,

Her locks were yellow as gold:

Her skin was as white as leprosy,

The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,

Who thicks man's blood with cold."

"'God save thee, ancient Mariner!"

From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—

Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow

I shot the ALBATROSS."

"Water, water, everywhere / But not a drop to drink". Famously misheard. But probably not quite the condition of Coleridge’s, when he opened the gates for British Romantic literature with his famous piece of seaman’s yarn. Opium dissolved in alcohol, laudanum, was the propellant of choice to drive the Lake Poets to bizarre, picturesque landscapes, dreamscapes, when Romanticism dawned upon the Northern hemisphere and Coleridge consumed it quite like a sailor on shore leave. Or a depressed poet with a writer’s block, along with the travelogues of actual mariners and their journeys to the eternal ice of the poles. A heady mixture. And he became a dreamer, Coleridge did, grasped his Homer and set forth on a journey to the icy poles of his own imagination, populated by Gothic ghosties and ghoulies and other things that did go bump in the mindscapes of most of the age’s writers worth their salt.

"The souls did from their bodies fly,—

They fled to bliss or woe!

And every soul, it passed me by,

Like the whizz of my cross-bow!"

(Probably not Coleridge's most sure-footed lines...)

The sea herself, the natural habitat of Ancient Mariners, becomes a backdrop, a scenery for crime, curse and punishment and a low road to bring on the horrors and, at last, redemption for the titular hero. The Ancient Mariner. Who foolishly and famously shot an albatross and brought bad cess galore on himself and the ship’s company. The sea, the sun, stars and the moon, especially the moon, become symbol-charged stage props on the poet’s and his not-so-jolly tar’s Campbellian journey inwards, “white” as a colour of ill omen shimmers through Coleridge’s historising lines, a rare occurrence in Western literature and enthusiastically seized on by Poe and Melville from across the pond, in their maritime tales.

"The spirit who bideth by himself

In the land of mist and snow,

He loved the bird that loved the man

Who shot him with his bow.'"

But like his Bostonian admirer’s naval narratives from more than a generation later, Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner” is spooled seaman’s yarn and not exactly Marryat or Conrad. But it apparently does not want to be a log at all. Even though Coleridge read at least some of those for inspiration. It is Gothic imagination and its set pieces of angels, demons, death and femmes fatales where Coleridge’s manifest dream content leaves the most lasting impression, even two centuries after its publication.

"Upon the whirl, where sank the ship,

The boat spun round and round;

And all was still, save that the hill

Was telling of the sound."

Instead of the world-famous take on Coleridge by Gustave Doré from 1866, yours truly chose the less known but still quite evocative ones by Sir Noel Paton's, published three years earlier.

A complete edition with the full set of Sir Noel's artwork for Samuel Coleridge's "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" (1797) can be found below as facsimile:

#unhallowedarts #dark literature #dark poetry #dark art #dark aesthetic #dark academia #gothicliterature #gothic art #gothic aesthetic #samuel taylor coleridge #noelpaton

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grandwarlordradha · 11 months

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Planar, Elvish, Forge?

Planar: What is the name and a brief description of your world/setting?

Horizon is a world split at the vertical hemisphere by a boiling sea, where the continent it takes places on (The Old Continent) is home to various cultures under siege by the expansionist and technologically advanced Apollon Empire, which seeks 'prosperity through unity' and to unite all countries under one banner and an assimilated culture. Various factions and ancient conspiracies are at play, including a crash-landed alien race of horrors warping the landscape of a dour countryside, or the first vampire of Horizon's death-grip over his barony where he combats his own sinister court of night horrors to maintain control.

Elvish: Favorite NPC that you've played?

For any game: Presto Change-o, real name Preston Chang, a shapeshifting trickster and general wild card 'villain' in name only who talks like King Candy.

For Horizon: Probably Alrich Hargrove (who my lovely girlfriend made a wonderful art piece for here), the eldest son of a tragic family with a curse to die thanks to the aforementioned crash-landed alien race corrupting the countryside. He decided to fight the Empire when his family wanted to surrender and became the black sheep of the family, forsaking himself to a ritual to accelerate the curse in exchange for great power and enacting violent vengeance on the Apollon invaders for separating him and his beloved sister Matilda.

Forge: Favorite magic item you've designed?

It's a very simple one, but 'Tim' the Magic Skull was a plane-displaced skull of a wizard the party found that was still sentient, and could be used as an action to roll on the Wild Magic table, and later got upgraded so that the user could either increase or decrease their roll result by 20. It's very funny to watch a player in real time engage the Family Guy 'Mystery Box' bit regarding their turn actions.

#horizon campaign #tagging just in case

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spoiler1001 · 2 years

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Why is it that I remember something- some kind of sci fi fantasy horror something- that starts with a thing in a box under the stair way of a college. It violently consumes whoever come near it and only the janitor believes it's there. It killed professors, students- and the janitor simply cleans up the blood and goes about their day. This thing is from the southern hemisphere.

Now this Janitor is going through a nasty divorce. The usual tropes. But she decides to go looking for him for some reason, and either he leads her down to the thing in the box or she goes there herself and she is warned about the thing in the box but still goes near it and the thing that normally happens, happens.

But she broke the box and now its out.

Does this exist as anything, please help. Google doesn't help at all.

#sci fi #horror

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prairiesongserial · 2 years

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19.6

Friday didn’t like the war-whoop traveling down the line of circus trucks. It gave her goosebumps. From the back of the line, there was no way to know what was going on. In the driver’s seat next to her, Enis looked like he was going to throw up. He was signaling to the mirror of the truck ahead of them, but Friday could tell there wasn’t going to be a reply.

Good Guys, most of them on bikes, flooded up to the crest of the hill, weaving between the trucks, and disappeared on the other side. Circus trucks were breaking out of line to do the same.

“What the hell is going on?” Enis muttered to himself.

A gunshot cut through the revving engines, stopping Friday’s heart.

Friday threw open the passenger door and jumped down from the truck. She ran up the hill as motorbikes and trucks passed her on either side, one driver slowing down just enough so he could yell at her to get herself inside a truck before she got killed. Friday shook her head as she ran, too out of breath to tell Tim to go fuck himself.

She came to a halt at the crest. She could hardly understand what she was looking at. Another truck flew past her, clearing her by mere inches.

There was a Hemisphere blockade at the bottom of the hill - that explained why the circus had stopped, but not why everyone had decided to throw themselves into it. Someone had made the call to, what, try to force their way through? As Friday caught her breath, the picture began to come together.

There was one circus truck on the other side of the blockade, but as she watched, she saw them cut a tight curve and circle back. That was probably Johannes at the wheel, which meant Val was in that truck, coming up fast behind the blockade. The other circus trucks hadn’t made it through, which explained why Johannes was turning back for them. Some of them had crashed into the blockade itself, engines smoking, to try to force the Hemisphere trucks out of the way for the next truck in line. Friday watched in horror as a peel of gunfire took one of the circus trucks’s tires out, sending it spinning out.

Enis pulled up alongside her.

“Jump in the truck bed,” he yelled. “I need you.”

Friday climbed in the back and opened the sliding window so that she could talk to Enis in the cab. She didn’t feel like she was in control of her limbs; she was moving through mud. There wasn’t room in her brain for Enis - why was he talking to her? Didn’t he know Val was down there, and she was losing him? Another rapid succession of gunfire - how were they firing that fast, what kind of gun…

“Friday!” Enis yelled, and Friday blinked through the sliding window at him. He winced, and reached his hand back for her. She reached forward and took it and let him squeeze her hand. He was shaking.

“I need you,” he said. “Are you with me?”

Every time Friday blinked, she saw Val - Val coming back from the North Carolina beach with his clothes still smoking, Val teaching Sunday school at the convent, Val sitting with her in a rotted out shell of a church in the middle of mutie country with his rifle aimed out the window, Val standing dazed in the doorway of his church as it was consumed by fire around him.

She wasn’t going to be too frazzled to save him. She’d pulled it together before, and she’d get them out again.

“I’m here,” Friday said. “I’m here.”

Enis squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. Then, he passed her a pack of matches.

“They’re going to slaughter us,” Enis said. “I need you to light smoke bombs and throw them while I drive - bad visibility will slow this whole thing down, give us time to get out.” He didn’t say anything about the repeating gunfire, but he didn’t have to. They both knew how bad this was.

“I got it,” Friday said.

Enis drove down the hill. Friday left the window and started opening all the boxes in the bed of the truck. Half of them were fireworks of some kind - Enis hadn’t said which was which, but a little experimentation wasn’t going to hurt anything. Friday lit the first match over the wick of a bomb wrapped in pink paper, waited for it to catch, then tossed it.

Hamlin’s people were probably doing the most good, but they were terrifying to watch in action. The bomb she’d thrown exploded into a sweet-smelling pink haze, only for the smoke to clear as a person ran through it faster than was possible. Half of the bombs did nothing but create chaos, which wasn’t bad either. Friday lit cannisters that released an ear-splitting whistle and a shower of sparks when she tossed them out into the fray, as well as regular fireworks and one very useful bomb that singed Friday’s eyebrows and nearly caused Enis to crash the truck. Friday decided to save those for later.

By the time she and Enis were down in the middle of things, the whole road was covered by a thick layer of smoke. The gunshots still came, but they’d slowed down. Hemisphere didn’t want to shoot blindly into the haze and risk taking their own people down.

Now Friday just had to find Val. She tossed another smoke bomb out, then stopped to think. She could sneak behind the Hemisphere line with a dozen of these in her pockets. And if she brought a few of the really dangerous ones, she could take the whole blockade down.

Enis appeared out of the smoke, almost nose to nose with her - she hadn’t noticed him leave the cab. He gestured to the truck’s roof.

“Give me a boost, I want to see.”

Friday helped him up into the truck bed, then boosted him onto the roof of the cab. He quickly scrambled back down as bullets struck the windshield of the truck.

“Okay, they’re doing that too,” he said. “But I thought I saw…”

Enis got back up on the roof, pulling a pistol out of his back pocket. He fired once before scrambling back down.

“I’m gonna move the truck so we can throw some more smoke,” he yelled, suddenly in a much better mood. “Rhea Bellamy is here. She must have been visiting Judith - Johannes’s mom. I don’t really get how she’d know to meet us here, but - ”

Whatever else Enis had to say was drowned out by shouts and gunfire. Enis disappeared into the truck and moved them slowly through the battle. Other circus trucks came into view just a few feet away, their tires shot out or their windshields busted. The circus was using them as cover. Enis paused to shout instructions to everyone he met: when you get an opening, retreat. Doesn’t matter which way. Just get the hell out.

They ran into five or six enclaves of circus members, Good Guys, and Hamlin’s people taking potshots where they could. When Enis finally stopped the truck, there was no one around. It was just him and Friday in a field of smoke. Friday went to the sliding window to find Enis with both hands gripping the wheel.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she called.

Enis got out of the truck and came around.

“I need to...ask for something,” he said. He climbed up in the truck bed with her, and at first Friday thought he was going to climb on top of the truck cab again. Instead he started digging through boxes.

“Seriously, no guns?” he grumbled. “I need…”

He found a rifle in one of the boxes and handed it to Friday. She wasn’t familiar with this kind, and turned it over in her hands, trying to get a feel for it. It was lighter than she’d expected - in inspecting it, she realized the chamber was loaded with darts.

“I need you to get Johannes out for me. I know you have to find Val and John and Cody, but I can’t get him myself. I have to lead for now, so, I - I think I’m begging.” He bit his lip, his eyes squeezed shut. “Please. Please get Johannes out of this.”

Friday grabbed him in a hug.

“You’re doing great,” she said into his hair, squeezing him tighter.

“He’s so stupid and I hate him but please get him out,” Enis cried. Friday kissed the top of his head.

“Go be in charge,” Friday said sternly, wishing she didn’t have to encourage him to put himself through this. If she’d been here, living this day at eighteen years old, she thought she might have broken apart for good.

Friday grabbed a few more smoke bombs and two of the more destructive ones, shoving them all in her pockets. She snuck glances at Enis as he hauled a whole crate of smoke bombs up to the passenger’s seat of the truck. She decided not to prolong the goodbye and slipped away into the smoke while he wasn’t looking.

19.5 || 19.7

#story

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openingnightposts · 17 days

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#BlackBoxTheater #ChainTheater #EdwardAKliszus #NewYorkTheater #OffBroadway #Witchland

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talesfromtheasterism · 3 months

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WITNESS (V/VIII)

cw: horror, violence, abuse. Read from the beginning here.

Space shattered. Stones and grains were sucked into a translucent maelstrom. Ghostly mass grew and split into limbs and tendrils, shuddering and solidifying. Every state of matter at once compressed itself into hissing flesh, molten skin and contracting bones. The horror surrounded her as the world shimmered away in a haze of pale, sickening green. The ringing and the pulse were gone. The only sound in every direction was the garbled, quivering scream of the Witness.

Luna struck the camera button, literally. She couldn’t hear the components click. The box was thrown aside as primal self-preservation took control. She missed her first grasp towards the hilt of her sword. A shuddering arm tore it from the curved sheath, and all her body threw into a back-hand slash. Against the formless Witness, it was like cutting smoke. No resistance. No effect. Its screech distorted and deepened.

She pivoted lurched for the camera in the vibrating sand. Movement was sickening. Everything was blurred and shaking, most of all her terror-stricken body. It felt like the ground would shear open and cast her to the vacuum. Sharp, transparent appendages shot across the ground like vipers, towards both her and the device, but she beat them by a fraction of a second. She pushed it to her stomach, turned back towards the ravine, and ran.

It took all her remaining energy to sprint across the uneven ground without falling, but fear just barely delivered. She could feel it in pursuit. Her ears popped as it spread back across the air behind her, rolling around her flanks, surrounding. Its dense smoke body rushed like a hurricane. She shoved the camera into its bag, freeing her arm. Run.

The adrenaline was already wearing off. Her leg muscles felt ready to snap, and her eyes were burning. All… of her skin was burning. Her hair began to curl at the ends. Inhalation was suddenly agonising. This was worse than poison; the caustic being tore closer. Faster.

The loose grit and downward slope threatened to throw her to the ground at any moment. The unending scream widened, as she felt rippling growths stretching out; a maw full of fangs. The cove was only seconds away. She could only pray to the Starweaver her pursuer would find narrow spaces harder than open plains.

But as she hoped beyond hope, something else hit her. Another wave of something powerful. Luna went from shocked alert to exhausted in a moment. Her hearing numbed and the edges of her vision went dark. Her sprint veered to one side, and she barely registered her feet tripping over each other. But her mind was where it hit hardest.

She was thrown from the ashen ground into a sick kaleidoscope of recollection. Her life flashed before her eyes in a new, disgusting light. Mistakes, failures, lashings. The last tears of an executed friend. Her mother’s worries and struggles when she was young, even over simple things – but all of them, balled together at once.

Everywhere she turned to flee only threw her into another reverie. Some of the circling memories weren’t hers. Men falling below the plane. Travel mates disappearing. Death before a ritual circle of leaves and bloods, in a pulsating space never meant for man. Symbols and sigils searing into her eyes, dragging them upwards. Towards something.

She felt the moonlight as she wrestled her head away. Her limbs were immovably heavy. The glow punched the air out of her lungs as it ever strengthened. Ever closer, and louder. What did it sound like? She could barely see or hear. Like a thousand Voids worth of echoes and whispers, from uncountable deeds. It was bearing down on her, filling a whole hemisphere of the cacophonous meld of dreams around her. She felt she would cry, but nothing came from her eyes. She made to close them, but they already were.

A dream.

The Moon fought. It dragged her whole being before it. Her neck was wrenched forward, vertebra by vertebra. Blinding light and echoing deafens, sapping her dry. She had will enough to resist, or to wake herself. Not even in unwaking would she relent.

She let her head whip forward. The Moon’s fissures exploded open, and its insides screamed. The people in the dreams clawed against imagined glass as they melted away, skin before sinew. Luna bowed before the apocalypse in her mind, before pushing away from the Whisperers’ darkest fear and throwing herself back to lucidity. To what would she awaken?

Part 5 of 8. Next. Previous.

#asterism #tales from the asterism #creative writing #horror #fantasy world #stars #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writing #fantasy

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llpodcast · 2 years

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drowthelynes · 2 years

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[Image ID: a comic of Zuko and Sokka from Avatar the Last Airbender; they're young adults, post-canon. A romantic sparring session-turned-stargazing date quickly evolves into... Well. There are also no boxed panels, because the artist hates drawing boxes.

The boys have their backs to us - sitting curled into each other's sides, arms around torso, heads upon shoulders and all that. Sokka is pointing out constellations, while Zuko listens with a heart emoji.

Close up of faces, Zuko turning to speak into Sokka's ear: You know, I'll really miss you. Even a month seems too long (Sokka blush emoji's at this.)

Zuko: Wanna know what I tell myself though? At least we'll be looking at a sun.

Sokka: Aw, sweetheart, I'll-

Zuko: --They're different suns, but that's okay.

Sokka: -miss you too... Wait. (drawing back to look at Zuko with a perplexed expression) What.

Zuko: What?

Sokka: What d'you mean - different sun???

They are rendered in chibi format now for ease of dialog bubbles.

Zuko, explanatory: Um. You'll be following the other sun if you're in the opposite hemisphere, obviously.

Sokka, with mounting horror at the casual conviction in Zuko's demeanor: Zuko... Zuko, baby no - that's not - there's no second sun...

Zuko: Don't play with me now, you're a scientist and a navigator, Sokka. Nice try x3

This line sends a bolt of red-hot despair through poor Sokka, whose hair comes undone through the sheer force of dread he's feeling. Is this what Fire Nation education did to not only its nobility, but the entire population? This... astronomical, pardon the pun, nature of misinformation?! He drops into a gaunt-faced fugue state muttering about all this, while Zuko exclaims and scrambles to catch his fainting boyfriend.

Zuko, having decided he has gone far enough with the ruse - snorts, raising a hand to poorly conceal his laughter. Sokka gasps in realization.

Zuko: Sokka, listen, so I was jo-

Sokka, teeth and wobbly teary eyes out: ZUKO YOU DICK! HOW COuld you play such a cruel and HEARTBREAKING PRANK on your poor baby like this do you even know you gave me so much EMOTIONAL AND SCIENTIFIC PANIC my heart was going to give out but do you even care and- (he continues for a while like this, in full spiky theatric hysteria.)

The last panel renders Sokka curled up huffily into Zuko's embrace, brows still drawn down and eyes still watery. Zuko, smiling slightly, pets his hair.

Sokka: I demand a 1000 kisses. Everyday after I come back.

Zuko, feigning dread at this "punishment": Shit. That's steep.

Sokka: I'll be counting.

Zuko: Of course, darling. End ID]

This was supposed to be done for April Fool's, but in a way, me being late is fitting - Geddit? I was a fool to think I'd do it on time....! Yeah I know, I'm a regular comedian.

#atla #zukka #zuko #sokka #my art #comic #they are SUCH..... /gesticulates at them explosively/#I had this idea of zuko weaponizing ridiculous misinformation to prank sokka Forever and I finally did it.#now I will sleep for 3 Years.#this is. yes - inspired by that post abt FN edu actually being 😬😬 and zuko actually being a flat earther hfxgfdhgdh but I made a remix ~#ID writers pls lmk/feel free to correct or edit in reblogs 😭 im uploading via app and the text edit options are.... :)#so if it comes out all blocky I apologize

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phantomrose96 · 3 years

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Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #long post #this idea is actually from uhhhhhh probably like 2 years ago #back when i was still in the midst of not being able to write anything so #stuck this idea in the microwave for this warm up fic

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attackfish · 3 years

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@yakezs asked for more of my AU where the Gaang travels a hundred years into the past. Universe tag: [Link].

1. Thanks to an accident of geography, it has been the Northern Earth Kingdom that has borne the brunt of Sozin's imperial ambitions. Meanwhile, Aang, the Air Nomads, and the slowly expanding resistance to the Fire Nation has been centered in the southern hemisphere, around the Southern Air Islands. This mismatch is only to be expected. The Avatar is from the Southern Air Temple. Sokka and Katara are from the Southern Water Tribe. Toph is from Gaoling in the Southern Earth Kingdom. Suki is from Kyoshi Island, in the Southern Sea. But it does mean that the resistance has not been recruiting in the areas hardest hit by the early Fire Nation conquest.

2. This is perhaps why none of those five, or for that matter Zuko, have noticed two others who awakened out of their own time, one on the small, cold, lonely island on the tail edge of the Fire Nation archipelago, home to her family since time immemorial, the other curled in the net that is strung to catch high wire performers who might fall from their lofty perch.

3. Ty Lee wakes to shouting. The ringmaster found her, and tells her they aren't a hostel for penniless Earth Kingdom vagabonds. Ty Lee glances at her green and blue underclothes, identical to those of the other Kyoshi Warriors, carefully mended with her clumsy, unpracticed noblewoman's stitches. They are far from rags, and she wonders what he means by a vagabond. Then it hits her. Where on earth is she? She stumbles out of the tent and out of reach of the ringmaster, though for her, stumbling includes a backflip and a backwards cartwheel, just to show she can.

4. It occurs to Ty Lee that she has been kidnapped, so she runs away from the circus tents as fast as she can. But nothing makes sense. Certainly it shouldn't be that easy to escape from kidnappers. The circus has pitched its tents on the edge of the kind of Earth Kingdom colony town Ty Lee became well acquainted with in her own time with a circus. But inside the town, no one has heard of the transition to independence, or Firelord Zuko. People tell her the Firelord is Sozin. Well. It takes her some time to come to terms with this. She wanders around town in her underclothes in shock until she manages to pull herself together and stop looking like a madwoman. She asks the way to the closest shrine, and hopes as hard as she can that there is a donation box of clothes. There is. And because it's a Fire Nation shrine, there are Fire Nation clothes. None of them fit, tragically, but she finds a oman's robe that fits good enough, and belts it around her waist so that it mostly looks okay.

5. Then, she puts on her best smile and heads down to the kind of bar sailors like to frequent. It's not long before she finds a ship headed to the outermost Fire Nation island. She had a few coins in her pocket when she went to sleep, and she uses them to buy a bunk. This town might be full of crazy people, but back in the Fire Nation, she can send a letter to Zuko. But when the ship docks three days later, she finds the crazy did not stay in the little colony town she left, because there is a picture of Sozin hanging in the dock office. She is staring at in horror when she hears a familiar voice, "Ty Lee?"

#avatar the last airbender #ty lee #atla mai #posts i created #do you want to ask a question it doesn't have to be a question #five headcanons #mai doesn't hate you #circus freak is a compliment #The whole Gaang wakes up a hundred years in the past verse

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crimsonandcloverwrites · 3 years

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bhah ch6 it’s go time

excitable bby carson is so cute I love that kid

Dani uuuhhh being so in tune w Jamie always is so lovely. and Jamie almost being a bit scared of accepting her kindness when she’s truly hurting is so interesting like I think Dani really is her person but she still can’t fully let down all her walls around her. or tbh probably doesn’t have the emotional capacity to understand how she’s feeling and communicate that properly gah someone pls give her unending emotional support she makes my heart hurt so much

“There was an odd expression on her face that Dani couldn’t place” that’s love babey (i feel like there are a lot of moments like this lol I love seeing this all from Dani’s POV)

oof Dani trying to figure out where she’d ‘misstepped’ bc of a look Karen gave her god she doesn’t deserve this

the way she can make Dani have a fucking panic attack just by being near her ummmmmm I hate her. like i can’t even comment on this bit bc I’m mostly just trying to read it really fast and not reflect too hard

ah sweet Jamie

hmmmm is this the moment Dani falls in love with Jamie please it’s so sweet and casual and literally just Jamie being herself and caring about Dani with her whole heart. no wonder. also the contrast of this with her realising as an adult is beautiful. Dani u poor little confused gay angel

the dirty paperback a staple of all good plotlines

dsfjhdfkjghkjfh when Dani straddles her and Jamie just fucking freezes oh my god this part makes me laugh so much you poor little lesbian

““As you wish,” Jamie said softly.” oh god oh no not the princess bride rn this whole bit is too soft

“Twenty-four hours alone with Jamie in her house, and it was like Dani had suddenly forgotten what the emptiness of it felt like.” oof just. Jamie is her home I can’t even think about that concept too hard it is too beautiful and all-encompassing

Milkshake Monday is so cute I’m gonna make a milkshake on Monday in honour of the O’Mara/Clayton/Taylor gang

Eddie’s “he rested his hand oddly on the ground between them, his palm up and hands loose“ is giving me flashbacks to the only date I ever went on with a man please not this move

aww poor Jamie is jealous (and probably very sadly realising she will never get to be where Eddie is with the handholding and blossoming relationship ouch) (this is also giving me flashbacks stop living inside my brain)

oh my god Jamie sprinting away from David w the paperback i’m dying

aww lil D&D bebes

dfgdjfh “I cast: slap you in the face.” i think he has some points

Eddie and his endless sheets of notes and plans is actually super cute.

Carson wanting to be evil there is somethin to be said abt queer-coded villians and that is that I love them and the gravitational forces they apply to baby gays

god the sibling banter in this is so perfect this is exactly how this wld have gone down w me n my siblings

lmao eddie really is in his element this is so good

god Jamie just... so anxiously awaiting for the only source of stability she’s ever had in her life to return I am emotional

teeny baby mikey. Jamie’s parents are the fucking worst for the ways they treated their kids but I’m so glad Nan can be here for them

why is... jamie so upset?? is this like. it kinda puts the nail in the coffin of the idea of her family being whole again?? is it just because Jamie wasn’t told what’s happening and she feels out of control?? let me see inside ur brain jamie u poor confused angry little bird

ugh now I am thinking about the idea of family and building ur own and getting to choose the people that mean the most to you and it sucks that for some people the families they were born into can’t be that and this is too much for a Sunday afternoon

oh she’s upset by the change of it all (tho like... that’s probably just the easiest part to talk about rn I’m sure it’s a lot of complicated emotions)

the foreshadowing of “I’ll be the one to take care of him”

"She isn't going to just up and leave you alone with a baby, Jamie." genuinely too fragile for this rn

fuck i can just picture extremely sullen teenage Jamie with feelings too big to process properly trying to just survive and sweet understanding Dani giving her a really gentle place to kind of... reflect a bit and work through them. I am. also having feelings too big to process properly. i love that Nan knows Dani is this for her too and probably sent her after her for that exact reason

hhhmnngfhgh washing her hands for her the intricate rituals of it all

“Can just call him ‘Bawbag’ and be done with it.” jesus christ Jamie sdkjfhdkjdghk I am wheezing

Dani giving Mikey the nickname literally means everything to meeeeeeee

Dani picking up pamphlets for Ed and Jamie too is so cute

lmao Dani is like. a boy??? asking me to homecoming???? panic time

Roger’s lil crush on Jamie is so funny bro ur barking up the wrong tree... in the wrong forest... in the wrong hemisphere... lost in space somewhere

Jamie getting to grow her own flowers is so wonderful and Dani recognising this is where she’s the most fulfilled is so lovely (and I finally know where the pressed morning glory from the box is yus)

god Karen is so relentlessly mean to Dani why are u like this

Jesus christ the thought of Dani asking Nan what sodomy is. the heartattack she wld have

woof this like subtle ‘you’ll never be accepted bc it’s just not right’ vibe from Karen in this whole conversation w Judy this is tooooo familiar. no wonder she just keeps repressing it all (should i be using this fic to process my own life probably not)

Jamie taking them to an outdoor picture theatre because Dani mentioned wanting to go one time ow my heart. this is basically their first date no?? flip that’s cute. oh god a horror movie tho sdkjfhdjf Jamie

i think there’s such an interesting thing of Dani and Jamie just... falling into each other in this really uneventful way and their whole relationship being this really full thing without a big realisation of ‘this is what love/romance is’ and is probably half the reason Dani isn’t really able to name it as that?? like i love it and i think it’s so sweet but I wonder if Jamie was ever able to actually say something if that would have finally tipped her tiny lil repressed brain over into realisation???

this whole bit is so sweetly innocent I love it

another day 3 days another emotional rollercoaster of a chapter gbless

#bhah

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argumentl · 3 years

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The Freedom of Expression - Ep 45, radio version, August 2016 - Dobashi in Brazil, 'Crush the NHK' election broadcast, Shark movies.

Kaoru starts the show by commenting on how suntanned Joe looks. Joe says he attended Fuji Rock and got tanned. He spent three days watching live performances and had a great time. The weather was relatively mild, cool at night, no rain, so Joe says it was quite a 'comfortable' Fuji Rock. Joe asks Kaoru if he's getting a suntan yet. Kaoru says he hasn't got a tan at all. He has been spending all his time indoors song writing.

Kaoru then reminds listeners that its only three more days until the live special will be broadcast, and reads out the title of it again. Joe says its quite a rough sounding title. People will be intrigued by it. Kaoru then says he has recieved a message from Dobashi in Brazil, and proceeds to read it out..The message reads as follows: 'Hi to everyone at TFoE. Are you all well? Are you into 'Hiranabe Go'? (*Kaoru comments, 'We kinda are'*) At the time of this broadcast I am in the Southern hemisphere, in Rio de Janeio, Brazil. There may be people wondering why Tokyo Sports has come here. I've been requested to do Tokyo Sports style reporting here, but nothing dangerous enough to get us into trouble. Some of my articles are already published, so please, fans of Dir en grey, fans of Joe, fans of Kami, and fans of Hiranabe with thier butts out (*Did I get this right?? '平鍋の下半身出たファンの皆さん'...??😳*), please do go and pick up a copy of Tokyo Sports. There will also apparently be a live broadcast of this show on August 9th and I will join it from the other side of the world for just a little while. Security is so bad here, and I may be robbed during the broadcast, but I won't miss it! Everyone please listen'. Kaoru and Joe both say they are looking forward to it. Kaoru reckons it'll be about lunch time in Brazil when Dobashi joins them for the show. Just the kind of time he's likely to be busy with work.

Tasai joins them next, for the Tokyo Sports corner. Tasai goes back to the question of why Tokyo Sports is at the Olympics. He says that overseas, people see the word 'Tokyo' in Tokyo Sports, and often mistakenly assume that it must be the major sports newspaper in Japan (*It isn't actually considered a serious newpaper at all in Japan*). Once, when a Tokyo Sports journalist went overseas to report, a special reserved seat had been set up just for them. Kaoru says he can understand how such a misunderstanding could take place. If they, as Japanese people, heard of a newspaper with 'New York' in the title, they would assume it was pretty major. Tasai calls this, 'Tokyo Sports magic'. They laugh about how the people in Brazil might see Dobashi and think 'Wow, a Tokyo Sports reporter!', they probably assume he's rich.

Tasai's first news is about one of the contenders for the Tokyo Governor position, Tachibana Takashi, who represents the N Koku party (or The Party To Protect The People From The NHK). His election broadcast/pitch was pretty incredible, says Tasai. Joe watched it, so knows all about it, but Kaoru did not. Tachibana was originally an employee of NHK. He quit after leaking info about NHK's financial trouble to a gossip mag. When running for Tokyo Governor, he put out a 6 min televised election pitch, which was actually broadcast on NHK, in which he repeatedly called for the NHK to be destroyed. This has gained both supportive and critcal reactions from the public. NHK employees get a very high annual salary, which is paid for by the NHK fee imposed on the public. Even people with low incomes are hounded for this fee, which Tachibana thinks is questionable. In his pitch, Tachibana also raised the many crimes or wrongdoings which individuals related to NHK have been involved in, including the case of two NHK TV announcers who were having an affair, and were caught having sex in a car. Tachibana claims the NHK is trying to cover up this info. Kaoru wonders if Tachibana is holding some kind of grudge against the NHK.

Joe then mentions the documentary movie 'Candidates/立候補', which deals with the topic of bubble candidates in elections. This movie features Mac Akasaka who is also another bubble candidate in this Tokyo Governor election. Joe explains that a bubble candidate is a candidate who is not expected to recieve many votes (like Tachibana). He adds that in order to run in the election, any wannabe candidates have to first pay a fee of ¥3million. This is to try to avoid joke candidates from running, and to make sure the candidates who do run are doing so seriously. The movie in question deals with the idea of paying the fee whilst knowing you won't win, and the reasons for doing so. Joe says it may obviously just be for a bit of self promotion, but this is also actually a good way to put a message out to the public that would never normally get there through the mass media. At the same time, there is always the risk that you will come across as a joke, despite paying ¥3million. Its a risk you have to take if you run as a bubble candidate. Tasai adds that any candidate that recieves less than ten percent of the vote has to forfeit the money they paid. Joe says that most bubble candidates never clear this post, and they have the added burden of campaign costs. They may get a chance to speak out about what they want, but it costs. Tasai comments that criticizing the NHK publicly is actually a massive tabboo, so ¥3million is perhaps not so expensive if it means being able to say such things publicly. With the tv election pitch which all candidates get, you have 6 mins on national tv to speak the truth exactly as you see it. Tasai's favourite thing about Tachibana's pitch is that at the end of his speech, he proposed a kind of quiz asking viewers to guess how many times he had said, 'Crush the NHK!' during the last 6 mins.

Joe also mentions that the 6 min televised election pitch can also unfortunately be used as a means to deliver hate speech, which was seen in the pitch of candidate Sakurai Makoto, founder of the ultra-nationalist/far-right group Zaitokukai. Allowing candidates to speak thier mind directly comes with this risk. Joe then brings up the legendary election pitch by rock star Uchida Yūya, still available to watch on youtube today. (*Do check this out if you havn't already!*)

Tasai's next news is about the recent hit shark move, 'The Shallows' (Japanese title: Lost Vacation.), starring Blake Lively. The movie had quite a low budget, but has taken in huge amounts at the box office. Tasai asks Joe and Kaoru if they like shark movies. Joe says he knows someone at the Rolling Stone office who is a shark movie mega-fan. Shark movies have evolved a lot since 'Jaws', there are even movies about flying sharks etc out there now. Its proper b-movie territory. These days there is also a lot of shark merchandise, like shark backpacks etc.

Tasai goes on to say that shark movies are particularly popular with young women these days. The younger generations, particularly women, are not that interested in mainstream Japanese movies, but much more into horror etc. Kaoru didn't know that young women actually went out to watch movies much these days. Tasai says they apparently tend go as groups of three or so. Each of the three will then tweet to thier friends, and so popularity spreads. Kaoru comes to the realisation that women also actually like scary stuff. Tasai says (*I think*) that a scary movie is the place to go to find young women this summer, and Kaoru likens this to playing 'Hiranabe Go'.

To finish, Kaoru comes back to talk about the live special which will happen in 3 days. Joe admits a lot of his friends have asked him about it. After the last live boadcast, they all recieved a bit of a bashing. Kaoru doesn't know how it will turn out. Joe says they will look back over the last six months during it, and Kaoru adds that he will play some more of the new jingle entries for the last time. Finally, he plugs the Dum Spiro Spero tour and ends the episode.

Songs - Dir en grey/Lotus, ???/??? (*couldn't make this out*), Dir en grey/Utafumi

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#If anyone knows what the song at 12:40 is pls let me know #dir en grey #the freedom of expression #radio

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